


Gender Rebel (Never Even Tried)

by haloween



Series: One Shots/AUs [1]
Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon)
Genre: Butch Lake | Mirror Tulip, Gen, Gender Non-Conforming Character, Good for her, Neurodivergent Jesse Cosay, lake breaks the law, the travel friends being Fucking Stupid together, there's 1 brain cell and they have to take turns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-19 12:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29874963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloween/pseuds/haloween
Summary: So I was sitting there at my computer one day, and I thought to myself: "Huh, I'm a masculine girl, and Lake is canonically also a masculine girl. That's pretty cool. I'm a butch who wants top surgery. Wouldn't it be cool if Lake ALSO wanted top surgery?"And then this happened.Jesse doesn't totally get why Lake is like this, but he'll be damned if he's not a supportive friend. They go to the beach together, Lake breaks the law, and it's all around a good time.(Cool, it's my first proper fic that Doesn't Suck Ass for this fandom!)
Relationships: Jesse Cosay & Lake | Mirror Tulip
Series: One Shots/AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196510
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Gender Rebel (Never Even Tried)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written Oct. 2020 when I was still working out how I wanted to write the characters, so there's some shit I would change in retrospect, but imo it holds up pretty well overall. Jesse is autistic and has ADHD in this, bc let's be real, canon Jesse has The Vibes.

Jesse tapped his feet rhythmically on the floor of the changing room lobby. Waiting was boring. Waiting sitting down was even more boring. What he was waiting for was great, though. He and Lake were going to go to the beach! Together! She was trying on a swimsuit right now. He'd only gone once before, and the second time was guaranteed to be more fun, since Lake would be there. They could build sandcastles, get ice cream, buy dumb stuff from the boardwalk tourist shops, and, most importantly, swim. Then again, Lake couldn't actually swim. She weighed, what, six hundred pounds? She could stand in the water and he could show her his freestyle. That would be fun, too. 

"Okay, I'm ready," Lake called. "What do you think?"

"Hm?" He responded absentmindedly. They couldn't go in too deep, but wading was fun, so-

Lake flicked him on the forehead. "Gah," his hands flew up to rub the mark. It was like being hit in the face with a tiny steel pipe, and it never got less painful. "What do you want?" He snipped.

"I said, I finished changing. What do you think?" She took a step back and gestured to herself, looking expectant. She had left her jeans and tank top behind, and now wore only black swim trunks and her iconic giant boots. 

Wait. _Only_ swim trunks. 

He shifted his hand down over his eyes and squinted through a gap in his fingers like he was looking at the sun: It wouldn't kill him, but it was probably still a bad idea. "Is there a reason you...um...don't have a shirt on?"

"Uh, 'cause I'm in a bathing suit. Is there a reason I _should_ have a shirt on?"

That was one stupid question, but she actually seemed serious. Which made sense, once he thought about it. There's a lot you don't learn about the world when you're stuck in a mirror for thirteen years. He had to teach her a lot of basic life skills, and her social skills were still shoddy at best. Some days, he got the impression that she was trying even harder than him. 

He opened his mouth to give an explanation and then promptly realized he didn't have one. What would he tell his friend? "Sorry, but the tits you don't have are automatically rated R because you're a girl?" Would he tell her the same thing if she _wasn't_ a girl? Once he thought about it, he realized that he'd seen her shirtless at least a few times before. Definitely once on the train when they'd found that laundry room car. And maybe twice at night, like when he'd gone to her room after he had that nightmare about the flecs. It hadn't felt any different than, say, seeing his guy friends topless at swim practice. In fact, it had actually felt more normal, because he'd never been, y'know, _interested_ in her. 

Instead of an explanation, out came "Never mind." She looked quizzically at him while he uncovered his eyes and studied the swimsuit. "Yeah, it looks great on you! Black is definitely your color." 

"Cool," she grinned. "You need a new suit, too?"

"Nah, my old one is still good. Ready to pay and get home to pack?"

"Fuck yeah!"

-

"So, yeah, you kind of can't? But you could borrow one of my shirts, and-"

Lake held her hand up. Jesse stopped talking.

"You're telling me that going swimming without a top on is illegal." Displeasure absolutely dripped from her voice. And he was getting one of _those_ Lake looks, the kind that could make a grown man shrivel up and die.

He winced, avoiding her gaze. In retrospect, he should have mentioned that before. Like, way before. As in, "before they were at the hotel, in their bathing suits, about to go to the beach," before. "That's what I said. Yeah."

"And you didn't tell me that earlier because why?"

"Well, I thought it was a stupid law, and I didn't want to make you feel like you had to wear a shirt, but..." He tore his eyes away from the floor and glanced at Lake. She had her arms crossed, foot skeptically tapping the ground with a dull thunk-thunk-thunk. 

"But I'm a dumbass?" He offered, smiling nervously. 

Lake rolled her eyes and gave him a quirk of a smile, which, coming from her, was just as good as a laugh. "It's fine. But I'm not wearing a shirt. If anyone asks, I'm a boy, and my voice just hasn't dropped yet. Got it?"

"Got it," he flashed a thumbs up. 

-

The sea sloshed lazily against the shore. Jesse's hair rustled in the gentle wind. Sweet vanilla ice cream dripped off his cone and down his knuckles. He absentmindedly licked the droplet off, switched the cone to his free hand, and waved the original hand in the air to dry. The ocean breeze was enough to keep him cool under the heat of the sun, but his ice cream apparently wasn't as lucky. 

Walking next to him, Lake took another earshattering scrape-crunch out of her strawberry popsicle. 

"Augh, why do you keep _doing_ that?" He slapped the side of his head as if to knock the sound out. 

"Doing what?" She innocently bit the popsicle again. 

"Biting it! It sounds so bad. And that's not how you're supposed to eat popsicles."

"Oh, this sound bugs you?" 

"Don't-"

She scraped her teeth all the way down.

"Okay, new worst sound! It's not nails on a chalkboard anymore! It's metal teeth on a popsicle. And you are officially a terrible friend. I'm disowning you. I'm gonna, like, leave you on the beach. Yeah, I'm abandoning you here. I get the hotel room, and you can stand outside and eat your popsicles the wrong way!" He threw his arms out, pivoting and gesturing during the lecture. A large chunk of his ice cream plopped onto the sand. "Damnit," he added. 

Lake laughed, and the missing ice cream was almost worth it. Almost. They settled into a comfortable silence for a few more minutes, trudging through the sand together. He finished the last of his cone. Lake, mercifully, chewed the remainder of her popsicle more quietly before tossing the stick into a nearby trashcan. The sun sank below the horizon line, setting the sea aflame. He glanced in Lake's direction. The light glinted off her, blurrily silhouetting her edges. The only thing about her that wasn't glowing was her swim trunks. She looked kind of funny, actually. Like a walking star in a swimsuit. His eyes strained if he looked too long, so he turned the other way. As he absentmindedly glanced at some of the other people milling along the beach--adult women, in bikinis and one pieces--a question came to mind.

"Hey, Lake?"

She hummed quietly in acknowledgement. 

"This is a weird question, but you are going to have tits, right? Like, at some point?"

She went silent for a moment and stopped walking. He cringed. Yeah, that was probably a really weird thing to ask-

"I don't know." The strong, confident cadence her voice usually carried was gone, replaced with an odd amount of vulnerability and unsureness. It reminded him of when she had told him that she didn't have a name in the toad car, and he hated it. Lake was always headstrong, always brash, always so completely sure of herself. It wasn't right for her to sound so fragile. Unconsciously, he took a step closer to her. 

"I don't know if I can age. Tulip didn't have them, so I don't either. She'll grow up eventually, but I don't know if I can. If I do, then..." She scratched her chest while she trailed off, as if to check that it was still flat. 

He gently laid a hand on her shoulder. Lake always felt better if she knew what her next move would be. "What would you do about it?"

She stooped lower. He wanted to hug her, but just touching her shoulder made his hand sting with heat. A full-body hug would _hurt_. Instead, he settled for a soft pat and then quickly retracted his hand. Gah, that was worse than bumping your leg with a seatbelt buckle on a summer afternoon. 

"I'll sand them off."

In a flash, she stood tall once more, bold and reassured. Which was good! But also--

"Shit, are you serious?"

"Yeah! I'll buy a sander from Lowe's or wherever and just get rid of 'em!" She waved him off proudly.

"But wouldn't you...you know, bleed to death?" He shuddered. Just the thought made him pale. 

"Pfft, nah. Y'see this?" She pointed to what he guessed was her ear. He couldn't actually tell. 

"Uh, no. You're really bright right now. You're reflecting, like, the entire sunset." 

Lake studied her glowing arm for a moment. "Huh, I am. Sick. Anyway." She gestured to her head again. "You know how I have my ears pierced?" 

"Honestly," he kicked up a bit of sand, "I wouldn't call that pierced. It's more like a giant hole. Still looks really cool, though." 

Impossibly, she looked even more pleased with herself than before. "The point is, I did them myself. Took a drill and," she mimed holding a drill to her ear, "bzzt. No blood or nothin'. I'm pretty sure I'm solid metal."

"But you can eat and drink. And reflections _do_ have to go to the bathroom. So aren't you hollow?"

"What? No! Just because I have an-uh, what do you call the thing in your throat? Starts with an e, I think..."

"Mm...esophagus?"

"Yeah, that sounds right. Just because I have an esophagus and a stomach and, I dunno, an intestine or whatever, doesn't mean I'm hollow all the way through. That would be stupid."

"What if you're a perfect reflection, though? And you have blood because humans have blood." 

"Uh, then I would have bled when I pierced my ears?"

"Ohh, good point. I _would_ be completely behind this plan now, but won't it hurt? Like, really bad? Like, excruciating, screaming, worst-pain-of-your-life bad?"

"I dunno." She shrugged. "I've never been hurt before. I was fine piercing my ears. But I guess we'll find out." 

" _If_ you grow," he added. 

"Right." She smiled faintly and turned to the ocean. _"If."_

The sun completely descended behind the horizon, leaving behind a darkened sky and just the faintest orange glow tinting the water as it lapped at the shore. Lake was vaguely the same color. Or rather, what she reflected was vaguely the same color. A reflection of the ocean wrapped around her chest. Sand and warped images of people moving behind them ran down her back and legs. The sky leaked down her shoulders. The breeze had picked up a bit, and her swim trunks softly billowed. 

Jesse breathed in deeply and exhaled with a sigh. "We should probably be getting back," he said wistfully. "We have to meet everyone up for dinner."

As they walked back, she reached for his hand. Questioningly, he let her take it. "Would you help me with it?" She asked.

"With sanding your chest off?"

"You wouldn't actually have to do it. You'd just be there for, I dunno, moral support."

"Oh! Yeah, of course!"

She dropped his hand and gave his shoulder a solid clap. "Thanks, Jesse. You're a good friend."

He brought a hand to his shoulder to rub the burn of the impact away, a lopsided grin slipping onto his face. If it made her feel better, of course he'd do it. "Don't mention it."


End file.
